Drenched in celestial light
by OakeX
Summary: But touch my lips with your own, and we'll become whole, as you roar flaming passion into my mouth, and I roar back. (On-time birthday present for a brilliant mind, happy birthday, my diminutive friend). Oneshot.


**In honour of a Miss Annie Carter's fifteenth year under the sun (which I hear can get devastating down in the barren wasteland where she lives).**

 **Also, to show that sex isn't all just mouths on mammaries and endless thrusting.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Sisters Grimm**

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And so when his lips touched hers, it was as if her world had finally shifted back into orbit.

That her equator had returned, and his arms which encircled her waist reminded her once again on the beauty of bisection (on being half of a whole).

Oh, she feels warm magma slide through her veins.

And delicious heat is trickling into her bones.

The touch of passion moves to along her jaw —clumsy but silken nonetheless— and so she inhales and breathes in the starry night surrounding her. It floats about her in rags. Wisps of starlight and scraps of the moon, tattered petrichor and his touch; all does she draw in past her lips and divulge into her soul

—Lord .

The ice air makes her teeth ache. She sucks in another breath, but his hot exhale breaks down all lines of thought that had been running through her head. Does he breathe fire? Has she fallen in love with a dragon boy? But in any case, every remnant of a memory swirls in her now, all nebulous depth and cosmic wind, into a storm, a stellar storm, and my my but it leaves her body boneless and her heart winged.

She was falling, but flip her world round now and see, she falls upwards (she flies).

Her fingers graze cumulus. They tangle in his hair.

Oh, but is this what love feels like? All things dissipating, her whole body naked and vulnerable, and every thought culminating into a single era of climax? That his fingers feel oh so good against her stomach, and his hair is brushing against her naked thighs, and he is messy and inexperienced but somehow all that does is heighten the surrealness.

She closes her eyes. She traces his face with her fingers and finds his lips. She can feel the long loping curl of his smile, the brush of his eyelashes as they flutter down, and he turns his hot cheek further into her palm.

 _Kiss me_ , he whispers hoarsely.

Blind in sight but not in skin, they kiss, and as their mouths join so another region further down joins also.

 _Ah!_ Two gasps. The air between their lips laces into lightning.

Her eyes fly open (as the elliptical galaxy that is her being sharpens into spiral), and her nerves become wracked with thunder. The blue-black of night swallows up the orgasmic heat that emanates from her (and the sound), and so she becomes one person in two bodies, and so she becomes two people in one body —she can't take it make it stop _no_ keep going!— as he roars flaming passion into her mouth and she roars back.

Primal, and base— love and lust permeates the air.

Two more gasps. A flash of white (lunar light).

They pull away. He rolls onto his back in the wet grass, and they shuffle apart. _Ah..._ Too sensitive. Too stimulated. They cannot touch anymore, for in this instant he has become Unstoppable Force and she has become Immovable Object, and if they graze fingers again pleasure will skyrocket too fast into the domain of pain.

So they lie there. Beads of sweat and stickiness drip off them, but they ignore that. They focus on breathing, on listening (for the sounds of the other's breath), on the coolness of the night and the dimness of the stars.

He shudders from Force back into Fairy.

She shudders from Object back into Human.

Their chests inflate with life. Their bodies cool.

Tentatively, he draws her into his arms, and she leaves a brief kiss on his collarbone.

They sleep.

From fire to frost and back to equilibrium. From being two to one and now to one-and-a-half.

A night in which they dissolved into rainwater and solar heat, and then reformed back again.

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 **Right. (Short) story over, and now it's birthday letter time.**

 **The above 635 words (why am I incapable of stringing more than 1000 words together) is dedicated to Annie Carter, who likes to be sassy like you would not believe and make rude Guest reviewers bow at her Queen feet. But that's neither here nor there.**

 **Thank you for everything you've done. All the PMs about the cute delegate from MUN and the cute boy who you couldn't talk to and the cute boy who you met in English (were they the same guy?) and man you've met your fair share of cute boys haven't you, along with reviewing practically everything I've tossed onto this website, even some of the bad stories which no one likes. So cheers for that.**

 **Oh** _ **and**_ **for leaving reviews dripping with snark on other people's stories (and on my stories), and for replying to reviews which I didn't even leave on your stories, and for all the stories about the immaturity of boys and how all it takes to overcome your repulsion of that is flawless skin and straight teeth; you're a weird eccentric little girl (really little) and it's been a great year and a half on this site not least because I met you.**

 **So, in conclusion:**

 **You're fantastic, Annie. Happy birthday. I hope it's filled with gorgeous males and more rubbish stories that somehow get 97% by some act of providence.**

 **(Now go wish her happy birthday, to the people who are reading this).**


End file.
